Wedding Day
by CarpeDiem75
Summary: Not what you think. First attempt at fan fiction. Please review. GSR.


A/N: Characters and situations are borrowed. Vague reference to Nesting Dolls. First fanfic. Please review, good or bad. Thanks.

Wedding Day

The pounding in his head was nearly intolerable. He wished the migraine was to blame for his tears, but it wasn't. Instead, his watery eyes were the result of a simple ivory colored envelope and the contents it enclosed. A deep sigh exhaled from his lips as he lifted his gaze from the cluttered desk and started blankly into the darkened room. The door was shut and locked. The blinds drawn closed. The only light was the pale luminescence of a small desk lamp. It highlighted the source of his suffering.

The envelope contained a wedding invitation. An invitation to Sara's wedding. His Sara's wedding. Grissom grunted, realizing she was no longer "his" Sara, not that she ever was. He had always wanted her to be his and him hers, but his own cowardice had prevented anything more than a mild flirtation. She had wanted more as well, once proven by her brazen request for a dinner date. He remembered the moment painfully. The pure shock of her dinner invitation had left him ill prepared to answer favorably. His rough rejection had hurt her deeply. She warned her feelings for him had an expiration date and, apparently, that day had come.

As tenuous as their friendship had been at times, it persevered. Although he kept her at arm's length, Grissom knew Sara could be leaned upon in a personal crisis. Understanding this was enough for him, but not for her. Sara was openly frustrated by his emotional unavailability, yet she continually forgave this dastardly trait. In gratitude, Grissom held her hand when she revealed the dark secrets of her past. Sara's revelations about her violent childhood rocked him to the core. The pain he felt for her then matched the pain he felt this day, her wedding day.

In the present, the whole situation seemed bitterly ironic. His lone attempt to show the depth of his feelings for her had given Sara the courage to put her own feelings for him to rest. Grissom had no one but himself to blame. She was understandably unsure of how to interpret his offer of emotional support. In full self-protection mode, Grissom hid behind the guise of concerned boss. Only he knew with any surety that the root of his action was his heart, not his mind. While Sara appeared to appreciate his empathy, she also appeared to be resigned to the platonic nature of their friendship.

Nearly a year had passed since their discussion about her misery laden youth and almost as much time had passed since Grissom learned through the office grapevine Sara was dating Paul, a cop, and, according to Brass, a good man. Sara never spoke of Paul in Grissom's presence, so he had no real inkling as to the relationship's seriousness. When he received the wedding invitation a month ago, Grissom felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. Actually, he would have welcomed a punch in the stomach, as the physical pain would have been far more tangible than the wave of emotions that claimed his soul after reading the details of the card. It took days for him to identify his feelings as sheer and utter heartbreak.

In typical Grissom fashion, he buried himself in work. He was a broken man attempting to assimilate life as it was before learning of Sara and Paul's impending nuptials. Secretly, Grissom took note of Sara's demeanor. To his chagrin, she seemed genuinely happy. She smiled more effortlessly than she had in years and with each smile; Grissom's heart broke further. His best efforts to mask his inner turmoil fell well short. More than once the members of his team, Sara included, questioned his downtrodden mood. He tried to persuade each of them he was fine, but given their acute investigative skills, he doubted any of them were completely convinced. Catherine was the most likely to know the true cause of his depression, but, surprisingly, she didn't push for details. Grissom politely declined Catherine's request to be her date for the wedding. Again, she didn't push, perhaps understanding the idea of watching Sara make a lifetime commitment to another man sent a violent shudder through his body he could not quiet.

Now sitting in his darkened office, Grissom felt both physically and mentally drained. He slowly realized there was no imminent escape from the reality of his heartache, but a solution eluded him. What could he do? An eleventh hour confession of love would be extremely selfish and potentially unforgivable. Was it worth the risk? Grissom buried his head in his hands and sobbed freely. The deafening sound of his emotional release almost drowned out the knock on his office door. His head snapped up at the noise and he quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and face. He briefly considered ignoring the intrusion, but the knocking was persistent. Grissom opened the door and swallowed a gasp.

"Sara."

"Hey," she said quietly.

Her body language exhibited extreme unease. He moved aside as Sara awkwardly stepped into his office. She walked toward his crowded bookshelves and stared absently at their contents.

Ending the uncomfortable silence, Grissom spoke. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the wedding," he said halfheartedly. "It is only 4 hours away."

"I was disappointed to hear you are not coming. I was really hoping you would be there." Sadness emanated from her voice.

"Sara, I…" Grissom stopped, not really knowing what to say.

She finally turned to look at him. Tired. He looked so tired.

"Why won't you come, Grissom?" She asked in a whisper.

Averting her eyes he responded, "I love you. I can't bear to watch you marry someone else." Grissom desperately searched her face for some to clue to her frame of mind. He hadn't intended on verbalizing his thoughts, but the past month had exhausted him so completely his inhibitions were compromised.

Sara's eyes were wide with shock. "God Grissom! Why now? Why tell me this now?" She screamed.

Mortified by her reaction, Grissom reached for her hands. Sara pushed him away and ran out the door. Tears flooded her face.

He watched her go. He was empty.

Five hours had passed since Sara ran out of his office. A singular, solemn thought occupied his mind. Sara was probably married by now. Somehow Grissom managed to drive himself home. He headed straight for the liquor cabinet and chased more than a few aspirin down with more than a few shots of bourbon. Reclining on the sofa, he forcefully closed his eyes hoping to will himself to sleep. Sleep did not come, but tears did.

Again his sobs were interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. It was Sara. Standing before him, she smiled weakly and held up her left hand. No ring.

"I couldn't do it. I love you too."

The pounding in his heart replaced the pounding in his head. Grissom pulled her into his arms. She willingly accepted his embrace, gripping him equally tight. After what seemed like an eternity, Sara pushed her head away from his trembling chest and looked into his eyes.

"You'd better be worth it."

Understanding the meaning of her words, Grissom returned her gaze and calmly replied, "I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove I am."

He pulled her head against his chest once more and buried his own head in her shoulder. Unbeknownst to Sara, Grissom smiled. All of his pain was gone.

Thanks for reading.


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